


Not Quite What You Foretold

by Angelic_Ascent



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst and Feels, Choking, During Canon, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9885308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelic_Ascent/pseuds/Angelic_Ascent
Summary: Akechi’s hand flies back -- not to Akira’s wrist, but instead his throat. “Shut up! Iama hero!” His grip tightens and Akira coughs, body jerking and making his head thud into the ground again. “I’m more of a hero than you’ll ever be! Just shut up, shut up, shut up!”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [logicaldive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/logicaldive/gifts), [Lethalfurry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lethalfurry/gifts).



> gifted because it's you guys' faults this happened in the first place. takes place during the first phase of the fight... obv. i'm not proofreading this forgive me mother

The explosion is momentarily deafening, and Akira doesn’t even hear the thud as he hits the ground, flat on his back, nor the slam of whatever -- or whoever -- lands on top of him.

His body aches immediately, prominently in his head, the stinging and throbbing mixing as his vision blurs and stirs. The person on him gathers themselves quicker, shifting so they’re straddling Akira’s hips as they sit up.

They say something indistinct, and though they sound so far away, the voice is so deeply ingrained into Akira’s mind that there’s no doubt who it is.

Slowly things start to come into focus -- the white and red hovering over him start to take a shape, and eventually, finally, he can see the other’s brown eyes through his mask.

“Akechi,” Akira starts, and before the last syllable is even out he feels the other take him by the wrists and pin them to either side of his head.

“Joker,” Akechi says, the word dripping with venom. 

Senses sharpening, Akira’s eyes scan his surroundings, firstly looking for where they'd been blown back from -- his Persona had made that explosion, and --

“Now we're stuck here because of you,” Akechi says, his head briefly turning to the caved in wall behind them. His gaze snaps back to Akira and his hands tighten around his wrists. “You can't even control your own damn Persona. You’re not worthy of being here.” 

Akira pushes against Akechi’s grip, but it only tightens against him, shoving his arms into the floor. 

“How did someone like you even end up here?” Akechi leans down, close enough now that all Akira can see is his mask. “What makes you so special?”

“I’m not special,” Akira says, his voice steady.

“And yet here we are.”

“It’s true. I’m not special. What’s special is what I have.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Akechi snaps.

Akira almost -- almost -- laughs. “If you don’t understand, then we’re done talking.”

“Don’t you dare say that I don’t understand.”

Akechi’s grip is so tight it’s shaking and Akira’s hands start to go numb. His voice is louder now, not just louder but closer in more ways than one as his whole body pushes into Akira, hips against hips as he leans down. 

_“You_ don't understand. You and your -- people -- going around pretending like you're some kind of heroes, but you're cowards, all of you -- hiding behind these _stupid_ masks --” Akechi tears Akira's mask from his face and then his own, and Akira hears the distinct cracking noise as it hits the floor. 

It’s easy, now, without the mask on, to see the way Akechi looks at him. His eyes are dark, brown consuming his pupils so they barely existed, and muscles in his face twitching with anger. It’s a far cry from the boy who’d sit in the café, placid smile on his face and easy conversation between them as he gently stirred the drink Akira made him. The person looming over him now isn’t the same one at all, anyone would say, death coating the hands that held Akira down now, the same hands that he so often held out to him; whether it was pulling him to safety amidst fight, helping him off the ground, or fleeting moments when the rest of their group was out of sights and Akira could swear he’d felt Akechi’s fingers brushing against his own.

But of course, when he’d look, Akechi’s gaze would only be ahead of them.

Akira’s now-free hand pushes himself up, his forehead nearly touching Akechi’s. “As if you're any different. You’re lying to everyone out there, pretending to be some kind of righteous detective, some hero of justice, after everything you’ve done --”

Akechi’s hand flies back -- not to Akira’s wrist, but instead his throat. “Shut up! I _am_ a hero!” His grip tightens and Akira coughs, body jerking and making his head thud into the ground again. “I’m more of a hero than you’ll ever be! Just shut up, shut up, shut up!”

Even if Akira could speak, he’d be drowned out by Akechi’s yells.

Strength leaving him by the second, he manages to bring his hand to Akechi’s wrist, fingers catching on his glove. “Akechi,” he says, voice strained and barely audible behind Akechi’s breaths, coming in heaves. “Stop.”

His heart jumps when Akechi’s grip does actually loosen. Not just his grip, but his face, too, softens, if only for a second; he blinks and his pupils dilate, and Akira can feel that his next breath comes in a near-shudder. 

The softness is replaced not with anger, but with an emotion Akira certainly had never seen from Akechi in all these months. _“Don’t,”_ Akechi says after a moment, voice quiet, “tell me what to do.”

Akira takes what air he can, the burning in his lungs momentarily subsiding. “I won’t,” he says, his Adam’s apple sliding against Akechi’s hand. “What you do… is up to you.”

“Of course it is,” Akechi says quickly. 

Akira pulls, hard, at the glove, and Akechi’s hand jerks as it comes off. His other hand leaves Akira’s wrist, coming to join the first at his throat, but Akira catches it and draws its glove off in a single, fluid motion.

“Then do it,” Akira says, holding both of Akechi’s hands at his neck. “If that’s what you want, do it.”

“Don’t test me, Joker,” Akechi says, voice so low Akira wonders if that’s why his hands are trembling. “You’ve got nothing. You’re alone. No one to help you, no one to come and save you.”

Akira says nothing, his eyes not leaving Akechi’s.

“You’re pathetic,” Akechi continues, his grip tightening just a bit. “You tried to play hero, and look where it’s gotten you. You’re all alone, not a soul in the world to care about you.” He takes a somewhat shaky breath. “All you’ve done was for nothing. You played right into my hands, and -- you should be begging me for your life, you should --”

He stops. His hands shake and he squeezes tighter. Akira can’t breathe.

“What’s in it for you after this? What’ll you have accomplished, really? Everything you did, for nothing, because you’ve got no one -- no one --”

Akira’s vision dims. His hands tighten around Akechi’s wrists.

“No one but your bloodstains to keep you company.”

“Akechi,” Akira strains, barely audible.

“No one to help you.”

“Akechi --”

Akechi’s grip loosens and Akira sucks in a painful breath. “Stop -- don’t --” Akechi’s eyes are glossy. “I won -- so --”

“There’s still time,” Akira manages, each breath like fire down his throat. “Just talk to me -- as you, all of you --”

“You don’t understand!” Akechi screams, lowering his head, bangs obscuring his eyes. “Stop acting like you do! You’re the worst! You show up out nowhere, you get all your -- your friends --” His voice lowers, forcing the word out like it’s physically painful -- “and you continue to talk to me, like what? I matter to you? Like -- like you matter to _me,_ when I’ve just been -- toying with you this whole time -- before I bring you to justice --”

“You _are_ my friend.”

 _“Stop! Lying!”_ He looks up and meets Akira’s gaze. “You don’t even _have_ to lie! I’m not your friend. I’ve never been your friend.”

Akira pushes himself up onto his elbows. _“You_ stop lying. Listen to me. Just because you lied -- just because you lied a lot of times -- it doesn’t mean there was no truth in anything you did or said. It’s not that black and white.”

“Wh --” Akechi stops as sudden as he started, shaking his head. “You don’t -- I -- that’s not true.”

“Then get it over with,” Akira says quickly, pushing Akechi’s hands into his throat.

Akechi’s grip only loosens, barely holding on at all now.

“Well? Why aren’t you?”

The room is deadly silent as Akechi looks down again.

“I… I just don’t understand,” he says quietly, “why you’re being like this. After what I said. What I did. What I’m doing.”

“Does it matter why if you hate me?”

“I never said I hated you.”

Despite the fact that Akechi spoke in nearly a whisper, Akira is silent for a moment. “Then finish what you started. Kill me.” He leans back until he’s flat on the ground again and forcibly squeezes Akechi’s hands around his neck.

But Akechi pushes against his pressure.

“I… don’t…”

“There's obviously someone you hate so much you’d choke them.”

He feels each of Akechi’s slender fingers move against him. His bangs still cover his eyes, but Akira sees the tears fall from Akechi’s face and onto Akira’s chest.

He brings a hand up to Akechi’s face and Akechi jerks up, meeting Akira’s gaze with tear-filled eyes. His hands shake around Akira’s neck.

Akira sits up. “Let’s leave.”

“But…”

His thumb brushes along Akechi’s bottom lip. “I’m not going to lose someone like you -- so we need to find a way out of here. And then we can face whatever is out there together. Okay?”

Akechi says nothing.

“If you don’t believe me… fine. But why don’t you make that call after we’re out of here?”

“I… but… everything… everyone --”

Akira shifts closer. “Don’t focus on what’s coming for once. Don’t think about what’s tomorrow or ten months away. Just try to think about right now.”

Barely, he feels Akechi’s fingers move, away from his throat, and gingerly, hesitantly, toward his hands.

Akira laces his fingers in between Akechi’s. “Because right now, I’m with you.”

Akechi’s forehead falls against Akira’s as he lets out a sob.

**Author's Note:**

> this had another 1.2k words of emo but i decided to cut it off with this sappy shit because isn't that what we all want anyway.


End file.
